December, You're Too Good To Me
by ivorykeys09
Summary: A little Dan/Blair holiday fic. Set a few years in the future. She's completely, totally, and utterly indecisive. She's suddenly become a Christmas tree psycho. Complete.


**Disclaimer: I do not own GG or any of its characters.**

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**i.**

"Okay. Here's my boxes," he announces, carefully dropping the last box with a _thud._ "Where are yours?"

"Where are my what?" she asks absent-mindedly, paying more attention to reading the Christmas cards they'd just received than his question.

"Your holiday boxes."

She looks over to him and furrows her brow. "Holiday boxes? I don't think I have any."

He tears open the cardboard square. "What do you mean you don't have any? Everyone has a holiday box. You know...Christmas decorations their parents have passed down to them. Special tree ornaments and festive knick-knacks for the fireplace." He pulls out a wooden Santa Claus and smiles. "See."

"Yeah, I don't have anything like that. My mom always hired people to decorate for us, and they always brought it with them. And we had a different theme every year, so all of the tree ornaments and house decorations changed accordingly."

His voice softens. "You really don't have anything from your Christmas' growing up?" His thoughts travel back to last Christmas. Did they decorate?

No, he remembers. They spent almost the entire month in Paris with her parents and never encountered this problem. How did she not have her own holiday box?

Blair puts the cards down and walks over to him, overcome with curiosity to see what else is inside. Kneeling on the carpet, and paying no mind to her skirt which will probably get wrinkled, she carefully starts pulling newspaper-wrapped packages out of the box. She unfolds the first bundle of paper and finds a white ceramic ornament nestled inside. In handpainted red script reads: _Daniel_ _Randolph Humphrey - 4.26.90 - 8lbs 5oz._

She delicately traces her husbands name and feels her eyes water. "This is sweet," she says softly, placing it off to the side.

"Yeah. That was a gift from Sue and John Clemons. Old friends of my mom's. Jenny has one too, I think."

She watches him unwrap another newspaper bundle. It reveals a wooden Mrs. Claus that is clearly the matching piece to the Santa he'd already shown her. Shaking away her momentary sadness, she smiles and picks up both figurines, then walks to place them both on the fireplace mantel.

"Perfect," Dan says from his spot on the carpet.

Blair stays in place for another moment, instead of rejoining him. Looking back at her husband, surrounded by his childhood mementos, she decides to stop pitying herself. She shouldn't be sad for the childhood she never had, or the things that weren't passed down to her, or the birth announcement ornament she never got. She should be happy for what she has now.

Because everything is perfect.

Her fireplace spot is heavenly, with the warmth coating her bones in a way that rivals her husband's body. The crackling sounds of the hearth mix with the holiday jazz album they'd put on earlier, and create a cozy, holiday ambiance. She even notices a few snowflakes starting to fall out the window. The only thing that's missing is the tree, and they're getting that tomorrow.

Her shoulders ease in content as she watches Dan smile at a new find from his box. She wants to know what it is too, so she walks back over. Kneeling down beside him again, she leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I love you."

He's a bit surprised by the gesture, and looks at her with adoration. His eyes soften. "I love you too." He leans in to kiss her soundly, tangling his fingers with her curls, and ends the moment by pressing his lips to her temple. "We'll make our own holiday box," he promises.

Yes, she thinks. _This is better._

**_._**

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**_._**

**ii.**

Or not.

"_Where_ are we going, Daniel?!"

"Just relax."

"Relax?! How can I relax? You could be taking me to New Jersey, for all I know." Her nose wrinkles at the thought. It's adorable.

Dan reaches across the middle console to take her hand. "I told you. Humphrey tradition. The first weekend in December, we get our tree." He looks over at her briefly, before moving his eyes back to the road. "You _are_ a Humphrey now, correct?"

"_Yes,_" she says, smiling at that for a moment. Her annoyance seeps back in. "But didn't you see the fifteen million trees people were selling on every corner in the city? Or better yet, the post-it note I put on your desk with the number of a company that _delivers_ trees?"

He scoffs. "Waldorf, the sheer absurdity of your request to have our Christmas tree delivered is too excruciating to even _begin _replying to."

"Don't _Waldorf_ me, Humphrey," she chides, flashing her diamond rings at him.

"We're almost there," he promises, then hears her emit one last sigh of impatience. She's so damn stubborn. "Here's a clue: we're not going to New Jersey."

She smirks. "Well, that was obvious enough. Unless you wanted a divorce."

He laughs and shakes his head. "I'm thinking about it."

Thirty minutes later, they pull onto a wood-chipped path and Blair catches the sign _Milford Tree Farm_. Once they park, Dan helps her out of the car and takes her hand. She spots beautiful trees on display in a barn off to the side and starts in that direction. However, she's quickly pulled the other way.

"Don't even think about it, sweetheart. Humphrey's chop down their own trees," he says, taking a hand saw from one of the farm volunteers.

Her eyes widen at the sharp tool in his hands. "Are you crazy?! Do you even know how to _use_ that?"

He laughs in amusement. "Yes. But it doesn't matter, anyway. I'm not chopping the tree down."

She sighs in relief. "Oh, thank god. You scared me there for a second. So should we ask that gentlemen over there to—"

"Because you are."

She stops in her tracks. "Pardon me?"

"Come on, Blair," he replies, taking her hand and ignoring her steely glare. "Trust me. It's worth the risk."

And it is.

She still huffs and puffs for the next five minutes, though, especially when she sees their next mode of transportation. To get to the tree orchard, they have to take a tractor ride there. She smiles at Dan in appreciation when he lets her sit on his lap, instead of the hay-filled, god-knows-what-else-is-in-there tractor bed. _It's all part of the experience,_ he just says, snuggling her closer.

She watches his eyes change when the tractor stops. He's so excited he nearly runs through the rows of trees. When he looks over at her, his smile nearly combusts her heart, and in that moment, her attitude towards their outing completely shifts. She mirrors his grin and gives his hand a squeeze.

"So...which one?" he asks, pointing to their options.

Her jaw drops. She'd simply thought there was one kind: a Christmas tree.

But there's Firs (Douglas, Balsam, and Fraser), Pines (Scotch and White), and Spruces (Norway, White, and Blue). Wooden signs point them in the direction of where each are planted.

She's overwhelmed by the choices.

Dan's not, though, so she just lets him continue to lead the way. She's happily surprised that the tree she'd found most appealing—the Douglas Fir—is the kind he is pulling her towards.

"I usually get a Douglas Fir, but do you have any preference? It's not mine, after all. It's _ours._"

She smiles and shakes her head. "No, that one's fine."

"Great. Now we just have to choose." He looks down the row to his right. "Should be pretty easy, since every one looks perfect. Don't worry...we'll be outta here in ten minutes. Tops."

But they're aren't.

Dan knew it'd be easy to sway Blair's mood once they got off the tractor, but he hadn't prepared for what took over.

She's completely, totally, and utterly indecisive. She's suddenly become a Christmas tree psycho.

"Blair, the one we found twenty minutes ago was perfect. Remember that one? Near the end of the third row?"

"Yes, but the bottom of it looked a little dead," she replies, scrutinizing every inch of the tree in front of them. "Do you want our first tree as a married couple to _be a little dead_, Daniel_?_" she asks, looking at him with an arched brow.

"Nope. Never. No."

"Okay then." She staightens her posture and sighs happily. "I think this is it!"

Oh thank god. "Really?"

"Yes. This is the one. It's perfect!" She leans up and smacks a kiss on his cheek. "Saw, please," she demands, holding her hand out.

Dan can't believe his eyes, but his wife actually _kneels_ on the grass, saw in-hand, and looks up at him expectantly. "Well are you going to show me how to do it or what?"

**.**

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**iii.**

"Alright. Let _Operation: Cookie _commence," Dan says, rubbing his hands together. He opens the freezer and pulls out a Nestle Toll House package, then reaches for the scissors.

Blair snatches them first.

A smug look makes its way across her face. "Oh no, no, no, my love. If I had to get the tree _your_ way, you have to bake cookies _my_ way."

"Which is?"

"Dorota's recipe. From scratch." She takes the frozen dough from his hands and places it back in the freezer. "I may not have a holiday box, or a special way to pick out a Christmas tree, but I certainly have some traditions of my own." She pokes him in the chest for extra effect and floats away to gather the ingredients.

He smiles at her enthusiasm and is impressed to see what she's acquiring from the cupboards. She must have been planning this for a few days now, because he watches her transform their kitchen into what could be the back room of a bakery.

He watches Blair set out the measuring cups, vegetable oil, flour, brown sugar, white sugar, cinnamon, eggs, milk, butter, baking soda. Everything. At some point during all of this, she's put on an apron.

They make gingerbread men, with mini gumdrops as buttons and chocolate candies as eyes, and candy cane-shaped cookies with red and white frosted stripes. Dan watches his wife sprinkle green and red sprinkles onto perfectly rounded sugar cookies, and decorate stars, trees, and stocking-shaped cookies with colored icing. And finally, because she'd said they couldn't bake cookies without including these, two batches of classic chocolate chip cookies and snickerdoodles.

After they clean everything up, he looks around the kitchen. There's easily 300 cookies.

They've eaten exactly five.

He looks to Blair, who's slyly poking her finger in the leftover icing bowl for another lick. "Hey babe?"

"Hmm?" she hums in question, having no shame in licking her thumb in front of him. It's so _un-_Blair, or at least the Blair everyone else outside of him sees, that he has to kiss her. She tastes of sugar and cinnamon and..._forget the cookies._ He'll just have her.

When he pulls away her lips look thoroughly kissed and her eyes are sparkling. She's also got a bit of flour on her cheek. She's perfect.

"Yes?" she asks again, her voice all breathy and light.

He kisses her nose. "What are we going to do with all these cookies?"

She wraps her arm around him and melts into his side. "Eat them?"

"Right. Because suddenly you've become the Cookie Monster."

She chuckles and rubs her face against his chest, suddenly exhausted from their bake-a-thon. "We could have a cookie party."

He doesn't even need to think about it. "Okay. Yes. We'll have a cookie party."

She looks up at him, amused. "I was kidding."

"I wasn't."

She grins. "Really?"

"Yeah," he nods. "We'll tell all our friends and family to bake cookies and bring them, and then we'll trade. Everyone will go home with an assortment."

"A cookie swap! Oh, that sounds so fun!" She moves away from his arms and over to her phone, where he knows she's looking at her calendar.

"What day works for you?"

"How about Saturday? A week from today," he answers, leaning back against the island.

"Saturday it is." Her smile falters. "Wait, isn't it a bit too late notice to be sending out invites? I mean, I'd have to go to my invitation designer, then look over the proofs, and then get them printed and-"

"Or we could just email everyone."

Blair looks at him in horror.

"Or...I could ask the designer at work to throw one together tomorrow," he tries again.

She breaks into a dazzling smile. "Would you? That would be amazing."

"Sure. He owes me a favor anyway," he replies, taking her phone and setting it on the counter beside them. He wraps her in his arms again as she trails her hands up his chest.

Blair leans up to kiss him. "The First Annual Humphrey Christmas Cookie Swap," she says, closing her eyes when his lips press against her temple.

He hums against her skin. "I like the sound of that." Tilting her chin up, he captures her mouth again. "You know what else I like?"

"What?" she breathes.

"You." _Kiss_. "Me." _Kiss._ "Upstairs." _Kiss._ "Now."

She nods, deepening the kiss and jumping up in his arms to straddle his waist.

"I _love_ the sound of that," she says warmly.

He walks them towards the hallway slowly, because it's pretty distracting when her lips are on his neck, and is almost out of the kitchen when he stops.

"Why'd you stop?" she whines a little, looking at him for an explanation.

"You _do_ realize we'll have to re-bake all of these cookies later this week, right? Unless you want to serve stale cookies."

She just shrugs. "If it ends like this, I don't care."

**.**

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**.**

**iv.**

"Ready to start on our holiday movie marathon?" he asks, placing a bowl of popcorn on the table.

"More than ready," she replies, cuddling into his body and the blanket a little more. She takes a sip of wine and releases a sign of contentment.

Each night, they watch a movie.

They start with the classics, just like she wanted. ("None of that _Lifetime _movie or _Fred Claus_ trash, Humphrey!")

On Monday they watch _It's A Wonderful Life, _and Blair cries so hard at the end they decide the next night should be a bit more funny.

So on Tuesday they watch _Home Alone_. And Blair swears that if any of their kids pull a stunt like Kevin, she'll move to Canada.

Wednesday is the perfect night to start the animated movies, Blair decides. So they watch _The Year Without A Santa Claus_ and _Frosty the Snowman. _They were her favorites as a little girl.

Dan tries to get her to watch _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_ on Thursday, but she turns that idea down so fast he gets whiplash. So they watch _The Holiday._

Serena and Nate join them on Friday night, so they all take a vote. _Miracle on 34th Street_ wins by a landslide.

They take an unplanned break on Saturday and Sunday, because Blair still refuses to watch _Christmas Vacation. _And when Dan tries to backtrack and say, "Fine, we'll watch _Harry Potter_," she gets even more irate. Because, _god_, who decided that the Harry Potter movies should be considered holiday films? ABC Family?

On Monday, they watch _Elf._

Tuesday? _A Christmas Story._

By Wednesday, Blair's running out of movies to pick. And she swears the _Christmas Vacation _DVD is inching its way closer to the DVD player. They watch _A Charlie Brown Christmas._

Thursday is _The Polar Express_ night. And Blair nearly melts when Dan insists they read the book before they go to bed. She falls asleep to the sound of his voice.

Friday night. The 23rd of December. The last night of their holiday movie marathon. He's spent all day helping her wrap gifts and cook for the three holiday parties they must attend tomorrow and he's exhausted, but still energized somehow, and gosh, she just loves him so much.

"I give in. We can watch it," is all she says, before taking the good spot on the couch.

"Yes!" he celebrates quietly, the DVD already in the system. He presses play.

Goddamn Dan Humphrey.

She loves it.

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**x.**

"And...done!" Dan says, after placing the star at the very top of the tree.

"Perfect timing," Blair chimes in, walking into the room and looking over their work. She smooths out the dress she'd just changed into. "It looks great!" She peers over at the empty ornament box. "So are all the ornaments hung up?

"Yup," he nods. "All except one."

Her brow furrows. "Which one?"

"This one." He hands her a perfectly wrapped square box with a ribbon tied around it.

She squeals softly in delight. "For me?"

"Not exactly..." he answers, but she's already got the ribbon untied and he doesn't really care about semantics.

With the paper and bow on the ground, Blair excitedly opens the box's lid. She gasps when she sees what's burrowed in the tissue paper. Delicately, as not to break it, she takes out the white ceramic ornament. Hand-painted in red cursive letters reads: _Felicity Rose Humphrey - 11.03.17 - 6lb 4oz._

Anything related to their daughter makes her emotional, so she is unsurprised to feel tears roll down her cheeks. "Oh, Dan," she breathes out, "It's beautiful." She places the box on the ground and leans up on her toes to kiss him soundly. "I love it. And _you_."

"I love you too," he says, his heart suddenly in his throat. "Now let's make this tree official. If you would do the honors Mrs. Humphrey," he says, gesturing to the tree.

Her smile is wide as she hangs up the ornament, right next to both her and Dan's matching ones. He'd gotten her one last Christmas.

As if on cue, they hear a small whimper.

Both of their attention goes to the small bundle laying in the bassinet by the fireplace. "Hi baby," she coos, picking up the tiny girl. "Did you think we forgot about you, my love?" Blair's eyes stay focused on the smaller, nearly-identical pair as she walks back over to Dan. Her voice becomes instantly maternal. "Because we didn't. We were hanging up your ornament! Your dad got you your very own ornament."

Dan watches Blair talk to their daughter, his heart warming at her soothing voice and long-winded sentences, which will probably put the baby back to sleep. But she's so enraptured in everything that is about their girl, that he just stands back and watches.

Blair presses a gentle kiss to the baby's forehead and carefully traces her thumb down her feather-soft cheek. "She is utter perfection. I know she's been here a few weeks, but I still can't get over it."

"Same," Dan says.

_A ding!_ ruins the moment.

They both look towards the kitchen. "Oh, the last of the cookies are ready. Will you take her?" Blair asks, before carefully transferring the bundle to Dan. "I'd hate for them to burn."

When she walks back into the living room from the kitchen, she hears Dan talking to their daughter. "You have a lot of firsts today. First ornament. First Christmas tree. And now, your first Humphrey Cookie Swap Party."

She smiles as she walks closer to them. "Okay. Cookies are on their plates and ready to be served."

A knock sounds on their door.

"Ready?" he asks, smiling and taking her hand.

She nods. "Ready."

**.**

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**end.**

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**A/N: Just a little holiday fic to brighten our spirits after this monstrosity of a show :) **

**I wrote this while listening to Chris Botti's album **_**December.**_** I highly recommend it. **

**I would love reviews! ****Happy Holidays, everyone!**


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